


Laundry Debacle

by Channelei



Series: Domestic Inarizaki [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Laundry, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, One Shot, Post-Time Skip, Reader-Insert, Romance, Short One Shot, Slice of Life, Suna hates chores, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Channelei/pseuds/Channelei
Summary: + Part 3 of theDomestic Inarizaki Series!MANGA SPOILERS!Suna likes the idea of doing laundry together for the rest of your lives.[suna rintarou x reader]
Relationships: Suna Rintarou/Reader
Series: Domestic Inarizaki [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887109
Comments: 2
Kudos: 166
Collections: HAIKYUU|HQ





	Laundry Debacle

It's no surprise that Suna Rintarou absolutely loathes doing chores of any kind.

He hates getting his hands dirty, despises the boredom of just standing there and scrubbing away at dishes, _detests_ the very idea of being even slightly productive. Why bother when he could just be sleeping away? And with the upcoming volleyball season, his team is busier than ever practicing, being interviewed, and doing sponsored commercials. 

Suna is exhausted. That's the only word he can think of to describe how wiped he feels nowadays (he's too tired to bother thinking of something more inventive). He often likes to scoff to himself about how much of a breeze high school was compared to being a professional player. 

Of course, he isn't necessarily living in complete filth like people would assume. Suna's apartment in Tokyo is actually quite spacious and open, free of trash and odour. While it does have that typical teenage boy messiness that gave it the feeling of home, it's almost graciously clean. If you were to compare Suna's place to Atsumu's _atrocious_ apartment you might even say that the lazy boy was pristine. 

Suna sets down his gym bag at the front door. "I'm home!" he calls out to no one in particular. He kicks off his shoes before fumbling for the light switch. When it flickers on, he notices that his bedroom door has been opened. 

Suddenly extremely alert, he furrows his brows in confusion and freezes in his spot. He could have sworn he closed his bedroom door before heading out today, he always does out of habit. The rush of adrenaline that courses through his body at the thought of an intruder makes his shoulders tense. The man grabs the closest object he could deal some decent damage with - a long, narrow umbrella - and slowly shuffles toward the room. 

There's no indication anyone has been here, not a single thing is out of place. The bedroom is pitch black save for the dim light from the front entrance lighting up a small portion of the floor. He haphazardly wants to call out a "hello?" or even brave through a "who's there?" but decides against it when he realizes how stupid that would be. He's seen enough horror movies with the Miya boys to know that never ends well. 

Suna slowly pushes the door wider open. It quietly creaks, the sound vibrates up to his fingertips and he shudders in slight anxiousness and fear. The sight awaiting him makes his shoulders drop, the umbrella slips from his fingers and clacks against the carpeted floor silently. 

There's a person in his bed, although the image of them there makes all the adrenaline in his veins dissolve into relief. You're laying there, silently breathing in rhythm under his duvet. In the darkness of the room he can distinctly see your eyes are closed and your body is curled up protectively in the warm blanket of his bed. Suna lets out a loud sigh, one part because of the relief and three parts because of the exasperation. 

"Gave me a fucking heart attack-" he grumbles, flipping the lights on and letting the brightness lull you out of your sleepy state, "-told you to text me before breaking in..."

He's halfway done opening his bedroom window to let the fresh air in when you stir in the bed and let out a tiny groan. Suna yanks the window upward and slides the lock into place. Tokyo smells nothing like your small town back in the Hyogo Prefecture. There's no familiar hint of grassy fields and mountain air, instead it smells like street food and chimney smoke from the building next door.

"Sunarin," you mumble as you sit up, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. The childish nickname you adapted for him in your second year of high school never changes. You give him a sheepishly innocent smile that makes the annoyance growing inside of him completely vanish. "Welcome home, baby." 

With yet another sigh he saunters over to the bed and leans down to plant a soft kiss in the spot just above your brows. "Did something happen? You didn't tell me you were coming over tonight." Your boyfriend frowns as he pulls back, the heat radiating off your body is enough to ward him off. 

"Mm, I'm sorry. I wasn't planning on it but I didn't..." you trail off before sniffling loudly as if to emphasize your next point, "...feel very well today." 

Suna raises the back of his hand to your face, placing his knuckles gently along the flesh of your cheeks to feel the warmth of your skin. His hands are cold to the touch, he watches as you shiver and lightly recoil from his wandering fingers. "Stay here tonight," he says softly, "I'll take care of you." 

You beam up at him. The sight of you with flushed cheeks and such an innocent expression as you sit on his bed makes him want to tackle you into a hug. He decides against doing so when you sniffle again, this time a little quieter and more congested. 

Sure, Suna was extremely lazy at times. A total slacker - someone who likes to give 50% when the people around him give 150% as if they're compensating for his lack of motivation. But you seemed to be the exception, a weak point, ever since you met in your last year of junior high. He never took shortcuts, never cut corners, never lacks when it comes to you. 

Suna gives you a peck on the cheek before standing straight (well, as straight as Suna Rintarou _can_ stand with that terrible posture of his). "I need a shower, you okay by yourself for a bit longer?"

"Go shower, stinky," you tease. Suna scrunches his nose at you and narrows his eyes. He lightly flicks you on the forehead before turning to retrieve an extra change of clothes and a warmer hoodie for you to wear. After he tosses the item at you unceremoniously, he wordlessly leaves the room and lets you roam freely in the apartment. 

When he vanishes into the bathroom, you slip his hoodie over your head and slide off the bed. The carpet is fuzzy under your feet. Your toes curl instinctively against it, the fluff gathers between them and tickles your nerves. Since your own apartment has hardwood floors, you don't get to experience the soft feel of carpet under your feet unless you come here.

Your legs move on their own, you hardly think about where you're going or what you want to do until you come to a halt in front of Suna's laundry room. In reality it can hardly be called a laundry room. It's barely smaller than a few feet - the washer and dryer are cramped together and make a horrendous squeaking noise whenever they run because of the vibration of the metal appliances together. Other than that and a small cabinet above the machines, the room can't fit much else in it except for a single laundry basket.

It could probably pass better as a closet than a full room. 

You sigh at the blinking light. Knowing Suna, the drying machine has probably been stuck waiting to be emptied all day. _"His clothes will be all wrinkled,"_ you think as you open up the machine with a _clunk_. The door doesn't even open all the way before it clashes with a part of the wall that sticks out like a useless pillar.

Suna comes out of the shower completely relaxed. After a long day of diving and serving drills, his legs are practically about to collapse beneath him. With a towel draped over his shoulders to collect any droplets of water, he exits the bathroom and tosses his dirty gym clothes into his open washer without even sparing a glance into the dark laundry room while he passes. 

His logic is _"I'll deal with it later,"_ but he damn well knows that those clothes won't be cleaned for another week or so. Might as well embrace his laziness. 

He fully expects you to be passed out in his bed when he gets there, or at least resting your body by sitting and watching Youtube on his laptop. What he wasn't ready for was to come back to his room covered in various articles of clothing and you sitting in the very middle mumbling to yourself. 

When he swings open his bedroom door it gets jammed halfway. He huffs in confusion before poking his head through the crack created. "Yo, what's-" 

The words fail to come out of his mouth and Suna is left standing and staring like an idiot. You shoot upright. "You left your laundry in the machine again," you say plainly. 

"I- But-" your boyfriend stammers out while stepping into the room. The excuses aren't forming in his brain, so he looks even more like a bumbling dumbass. "I was gonna get to it eventually," he retorts. Suna can clearly see you're unconvinced by the way you sit there with a brow raised, midway through folding a t-shirt (his closet isn't big enough to hang them all). 

"Doof," you mutter halfheartedly as you finish up folding and add the shirt to the existing pile. "If you leave them too long they'll wrinkle." 

"Well I'm going to wear 'em anyway, who cares if they get wrinkled?" Suna shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he watches you from his spot at the door. 

You blink up at your boyfriend in disbelief for a moment. "But... don't you want to at least look professional? You _are_ a pro player." 

"No one cares if I look professional. I play a sport where I get all sweaty and gross anyways." 

"Miya-san cares. Even if his apartment is filthy I think he at least dresses half decently," you shrug, uncuffing the bottoms of one of his sweatpants and folding it neatly in your lap. "Plus you don't just play sports y'know. There are some everyday clothes in this load and I think they look really good on you-" he catches your glance, "-when they aren't wrinkled." 

Suna sits himself down across from you to poke at your cheeks. When you swat his hand away he smirks slyly. "Aw, you care, too." 

You glare at him softly, "As if."

"Yeah, that's why you're in _my_ apartment folding _my_ laundry." His emphasis makes you groan to yourself. "Aren't you sick? Get back into bed." 

"I'm fine," you murmur, "plus I already took everything out of the laundry so I might as well finish it." 

Normally Suna would protest, but the way you curse quietly to yourself as you flatten out one of his shirts in hopes that it will unwrinkle itself makes him smile. He grabs the fabric from your hands and messily folds it before tossing it into your growing pile of shirts. You watch him, almost with a glimmer of fascination in your eyes, as he continues working through the pile with you. 

"Sunarin," you call out, tugging at the gym shorts in his hands, "you don't have to. I know you hate doing this," you tease. 

Your boyfriend just shakes his head stubbornly. Without uttering a single word he moves onto twisting pairs of socks into neat little bundles. You observe him, pausing in your laundry folding to watch carefully. It's strange, to be so entranced in watching him do something as mundane as sifting through a pile of clothes to find matching pairs of socks. 

Somehow Suna makes anything and everything look so... _"Pretty,"_ you think to yourself when he finally finds a pair and holds them up in front of his face to compare. 

"You know," he suddenly starts making you snap out of your reverie. "This is pretty damn domestic," he points out. 

_Huh?_

"I guess," you combine your folded piles together so they're more organized, "not the first time we've done this, though." 

Suna thinks back to your last few visits. You usually end up helping him with something around the apartment, even if it's stupid like wiping down his counters because _"ew Sunarin how old is this ketchup stain?!"_

He almost wants to snicker to himself about how much you help out around here, even though you don't live here. Sometimes he even comes home to find food that has mysteriously appeared in his fridge. You act like a doting mother (or you know, loving girlfriend). 

All of it feels so intimate and personal, everything you've ever done to help him. Sticking with him though countless meltdowns over his career, through victories and losses alike, through sickness and health. He feels blessed to have someone like you with him, and as he looks at you with your nose slightly scrunched trying to decipher if one sock is identical to another, it's like he's looking at an angel sent from heaven. 

"Do you want to move in together?" 

"Mhm," you hum, finally deciding just to put the socks together as a pair and toss them to the side. 

"..." 

"..." 

"Wait... _HUH?_ " 

Suna shakes his head with that iconic shit eating smirk on his face. "I asked if you want to move in together. Doesn't have to be here or at your place either, we can definitely find somewhere bigger and-" 

"Wait! Wait! My brain is fried just wait!" you stammer out, waving your hands around in front of your face animatedly. The blush on your cheeks is furious, burning in your skin and making your face hot. "You really want to move in together?"

"Moron," he rolls his eyes and ignores your glare, "of course I do." 

You stare at him in bewilderment for a few moments, waiting for him to say a _"gotcha!"_ and tell you this is all a prank. You even half expect Osamu or Atsumu to jump out of the wardrobe filming the fiasco, but when it never happens your jaw goes slack in shock and you leap forward into Suna's arms. He yelps and falls back so you're straddling him by the waist. 

"OhmygodIloveyousomuchSunarinyouhavenoideahowlongI'vebeenwantingto-" 

"Woah, slow down babe!" Suna's voice comes out muffled underneath you. The smell of his detergent surrounds you and mixes intoxicatingly with his shampoo. "I love you too," his smirk returns but the deviousness has vanished. "So you do want to, right? And like, move somewhere bigger than our places?" 

You pepper his face with kisses, just the way he likes starting from the nose and ending at the tips of his ears. "Of course! And we'll get a place that actually fits a laundry room in it properly." 

Suna smiles at you, one of those lazy, trademark smiles that you've grown so accustomed to in all the years you have been together. 

"Deal." 

_________________________________

**EXTRA**

Inviting the Miya boys to come look at your new shared apartment with your boyfriend was a grave mistake. 

"If either of you break anything I'm kicking you both out," is Suna's deadly warning. 

"Both of us?! But we both already know it's gonna be 'Samu's fault!" 

"Excuse me?" Osamu jabs his finger into Atsumu's chest accusingly. His steely hair has faded back into its natural dark brown but Atsumu was still adamant on bleaching his. "I'm not the one who broke the frickin' rice cooker at-" 

"I toldja I'd pay you back, can ya just drop that already?!" 

"Okay then what about that time in high school when ya got locked in the-" 

"'Samu! Suna already has that on video, _please_ don't remind him!" 

"Then how 'bout the time I let you use my laptop and ya-" 

"How come ya have so much dirt on me?" Atsumu groans in utter defeat as if Osamu didn't spend every waking hour being tortured by his shenanigans. 

You laugh at their bickering and decide to stay out of this one - Suna seems to have it under control by offering more pudding cups to your friends. It feels like high school all over again. The nostalgia is overwhelming your senses as the four of you sit in your empty living room on the floor (the moving van hasn't arrived on time). 

Suna gives you a loving smile and squeezes your hand gently. 

"Yuck! Can'tcha guys wait 'til we're outta the room to give each other bedroom eyes?" Atsumu sneers and Osamu scrunches up his nose in mock disgust. 

"God... Gross," the younger Miya mumbles, agreeing with his brother ~~for once~~. 

Yep, some things never change.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies it took me so long to get another part out for the series!
> 
> I've been working on something for Kita in the background and right now it's a 9k monster of unedited word vomit. But I'll still try and post frequently enough for this series, so long as I don't run out of prompts and ideas. I also want to try working on stuff for more underrated characters like Akagi (BABY) and Ginjima (BABYYYY)
> 
> Hopefully this fluffy fluff is enough for now!! I've never really done a Suna story before but I do know he doesn't have the Kansai accent everyone else at Inarizaki does so I had to keep that in mind. I just got so used to it for Atsumu, Osamu and Kita!!
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll have another part out soon and also another update on the long frickin Kita story!
> 
> Stay happy and safe :)


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